With all this talk today about Turkey invading Syria or one of those other wonderful places, it got me thinking about one of my (now) favorite stories.
You see, I know several things about Turkey.
Turkey, The Country.
I know a few things about it.
1. They are Islamic, or something like that, no offense to anyone.
2. They don’t much like white folk, let alone black folk. Again, no offense
3. They are NOT Lgbq, or blts or whatever that is, friendly. BLTs? I like BLTs. Judith ANN!!!!
4. Turkish Prisons are bad places to wind up
5. I’m not allowed to go there anymore.
Now, I know that you were probably hanging right in there with me until I got to #5, and then I lost you. Thus, the point of this story.
The morning that we touched down at Incirlik Air Base, just outside of Ankara Turkey, I had in mind a couple of things. I had a crew rest so I thought:
1. A Hot Bath
2. A Hot Meal
3. I’ll leave this blank because i can’t remember WHAT WAS #3.
(Actually, I simply prefer to LIVE, so I’m gonna leave it alone. Best you do too).
Anyway. My XO was a skinny butt black man, and buddy, HE was all guy. Now, me, being a white boy, I would have gotten a Black Belt in something, I think JJ had a White Belt. But he was pure poetry in motion. The crap I’d seen him pull off, was mind bending.
I got my leg up around my neck once when I was young. They had to call a tow truck to take me to the hospital because once I got it there, it wasn’t coming back around.
I digress, yet again.
So once we had the hot bath and hot meal, JJ and I decided we’d go find whatever the heck was number three on our list.
My best calculated guess, would be that J stood about 6’3″ and weighed about 158 pounds soaking wet with a boat anchor tied around his hind end. Skinny.
I, on the other hand, was about 6′ 185 and I was a strapping excuse for an overeater.
Down the road we went. J says to the guy wearing that funny thing on his head, Got any Gay bars in town?
I looked at him like he’d taken leave of his senses, which clearly he had.
Back at home, this nutcase wore a great big gun belt with a brass buckle the size of a small country, shinned up cowboys boots, and a white 10 gallon hat.
He had left the gun, thankfully, be had on the boots and hat.
I, once again, on the other hand, looked like I had just fallen out of a pretzel factory with too much mustard on my cuffs.
Neither one of us, just for the sake of truth telling, were
gay….unless of course, gay means happy which I knew I would be, if I managed to not get killed tonite with this clown beside me.
The driver let us out at this place that, well, it kinda looked like a bar.
There was some really strange music, or maybe that was a cat having his, umm, private parts squeezed. I really wasn’t too sure.
Meanwhile, there was a whole bunch of folks, that all looked like the driver that had just dropped us off, while counting our money, and smiling some kind of evil snarf that scared the bejesus out of me.
There we stand, just a couple of cowpokes outside a saloon that we’d never been too before, and for all I know, everyone single one of ’em in there, was “happy.”
Pardon me sir, could I borrow that sharp looking sword that you’ve got there? I’d like to slit my throat now, and just get it over with.
So as I was standing there, JJ turns to me. He APPEARS to have that SAME evil smirk on HIS face, that I just saw on the driver’s face.
Hey, Sweetie, c’mon along, I’ll buy you a fruit punch.
I’ll buy you a fruit punch you fruit salad looking fool, you’re going to get us all killed.
Nah he says, I got this.
Well that just makes everything alright then buddy. You go on right ahead, I’ll be in shortly. NOT.
Sensing a certain amount of trepidation, on my part, to enter said premises, he grabs me by the hand and literally DRAGS me through the door, and into the light, and HE WAS SKIPPING.
YA. I’m talking “skip to my lou” kind of skipping.
Here we are Fruit Salad and his special friend, Tater Salad.
AND. THERE. THEY. WERE.
Everybody in that place STOPPED what they were doing.
Now, when I say stopped, I don’t mean they casually turned around to see what all the hubbub was. They STOPPED.
Ever watch Blazing Saddles? THAT kind of stop. You could hear a pin drop.
I honest to God do NOT remember who said what to whom, but whatever it was, nobody in the place was really especially happy about it.
A discussion ensued.
Now once again, this is not your laid back, what do YOU think Honey kind of discussion, this was a full out I love your mother kind of thing.
Voices kept going up in volume, and I’m trying to keep an eye on that one guy in the corner with a funny eye.
At least I think that was an eye. Might have just been a hole in the head from an old gunshot wound or something, I’m just not sure.
Whatever it was, he was looking at me like he didn’t want to really argue, but had some other entertainment in mind.
This was NOT what #3 was supposed be be.
Meanwhile the J’ster is over there, nose to nose with some guy, and he must’ve had bad breath or something because J was getting kind of upset that he was in his face.
Others crowded in, and I began to sense a certain animosity on the part of the locals, and thought it might be best, in the interest of staying alive, to entertain the idea of getting to heck OUT of there.
Nothing doing Buckaroo, J, is just warming up.
The next thing I know, the guy with the hole in his head has his lips awfully near my neck, and J just hit the guy with bad breath, with a chair.
Anyone care to guess what happened next?
Well it was a lot of fun, for the first 10 to 15 seconds, and then bullet hole here, decided to kiss me on the cheek.
Now I’m sorry, that’s too much of an infringement on my personal space, and I lost control of myself. I slapped him away, and ran at the guy with the sword aimed right at J’s back.
Now I would have just let the guy run him through and gotten out of there, but My GOD, the paperwork. I’ STILL be filling out forms.
So I knocked that guy down, and J flipped around and the next thing I knew there were about five of them on the ground and they started backing up.
J looks at me and says, you want that drink now?
I’m thinking, it’s JUST about time now, to pull rank. GET THE HECK OUTA HERE, NOW.
Not so fast.
There, at the door, are the Cops.
They really didn’t have “death by cop” back then, but I seriously considered it. In the long run, it would have saved me a lot of trouble and a SERIOUS butt chewing.
If ever you see me, and you notice that I limp a little to the left, it’s because the Colonel that came and got us out of Jail the next morning, chewed my left buttcheek completely OFF.
Oh he wasn’t that upset. He thought it was really kind of comical.
But whoever HE reported to, HE was Mad. But even he could see the humor in it, but that guy with the hole where his eye should have been, well apparently he was somebody important.
He’d offered me a night of frivolity, and HE WAS (hide the kids again please) PISSED.
In the end, we made a deal.
Pay for the damages, get a verbal reprimand, and we’re not ever allowed back in Turkey again.
This past winter, our Church decided to take a group to Israel. Only one problem. There’s a stop in Turkey.
Seems I’m gonna have to miss that trip after all.